


Dismantled

by Spadesinspades



Series: Mixy Ficlets [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Arguing, Blood, M/M, Mention of Death, Rough Kissing, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1916892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spadesinspades/pseuds/Spadesinspades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet Request:  Johnlock Jaeger Pilots - Compatibility Test</p><p>For PatternOfDefiance, with my adoration. xoxo</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dismantled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [patternofdefiance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patternofdefiance/gifts).



"How did it go yesterday?" John asks.  

Sherlock knows John stopped attending the compatibility tests ages ago because after countless failures, he couldn't stand the look of disappointment on Sherlock’s face any longer.

Sherlock shakes his head and frowns.  Water droplets from his shower-damp hair drip on to his bare shoulders.  ”Not good.  I don’t even understand what I'm expected to do to improve the situation any more.”

"Well, you could stop trying to be better than everyone," John says.  "That would be something."

"I'm not trying," Sherlock replies, sitting down heavily on his bunk, "I just  _am_ better than everyone.”

John rolls his eyes and tosses a towel at Sherlock.  ”Let’s go, you've got training.”

Sherlock lets the towel fall to the floor.  He stares at it for a moment before sighing loudly.  ”There’s no one, John.  The other pilots can barely sit next to me in the mess, let alone hold a conversation.  There isn't anyone who can even stand to be in my presence long enough these days.”

"That’s not true," John replies.  "I can, obviously.  We've been room-mates for six months."

"Then test with me."

John turns his back to the bunk.  ”You know I can’t do that.  I'm retired.”

"A self-imposed retirement," Sherlock reminds him.  "That injury isn't even an impediment to you.  It’s like you forget that we train together; I know what you’re capable of and there is no reason for you to be retired."

John walks over to the edge of the bunk and stands very close to Sherlock.  He looks down at him and speaks very quietly.

"This  _injury_  is an impediment to me every moment of every day.  Greg was in my regiment before the first Kaiju attack and then he was my partner in the drift.  The  _scar_  this _injury_ left me with reminds me of what it was like to hold his suit in my arms while I watched him die inside of it.  The  _piece of metal_  that caused the _injury_ that left this _scar_ was from the same Jaeger that exploded with us inside it, causing Greg to be impaled and then bleed to death.  So when you try and tell me that I am  _capable_  and that you see no  _impediment…_  Well, I- beg- to- differ.”

Sherlock blinks up at John, unsure of how to respond.

"Now get the fuck up," John finally says, stepping back.  "You have training and I am going to take you apart.  Completely dismantle you.  You deserve it."

###

Hours later, John and Sherlock are the only two left in the training room.  The sun set ages ago and all the equipment has been abandoned.  John has relegated Sherlock to the boxing ring, making him run through forms and attacks over and over again.

"No, not good enough.  Your strike has to be sharper so that you can move more quickly into the next position," John explains, shaking his head.  

Sherlock is kneeling on the mat, breathing heavily.  ”What is the  _fucking_  point, any way?  You’re just punishing me.”

"Pardon?"

"You’re punishing me for questioning your bullshit retirement," Sherlock replies, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.  "You and I both know it has nothing to do with your injury and everything to do with you being a coward."

John moves so quickly that Sherlock doesn't have time to dodge.  The left hook connects with his jaw and sends him sprawling across the mat.  Sherlock rolls to recover and probes a split lip with his tongue.  He tastes blood in his mouth as he stands.

"You’re an arsehole, you know that?"  John says, pointing.  "That’s why no one will take you on as a pilot.  You’re a fucking wanker."

Sherlock lunges forward and tackles John to the mat, but he knows he won’t stay down long without a fight.  As John struggles, disoriented, Sherlock takes the opportunity to return a few punches.

"I’d rather be a wanker than a washout!"  Sherlock replies.  He straddles John and uses his knees to hold John’s hips down, then he pins John’s wrists over his head so he can’t throw any more left hooks.

"I'm not a washout!  I watched a man die!  I was in his bleeding head!"

"And now you’re afraid to get back in the cockpit!"

"I'm only afraid of making you look bad!"

"Liar!" Sherlock accuses.  "You’re afraid of the drift!"

John’s mouth is open to retaliate, but it suddenly snaps shut.  ”What would you even know about it?” he finally responds.

"I know that you’re afraid of facing those memories," Sherlock says.  He releases John’s hands and sits up straight, looking down at the other man.

"And what’s wrong with that?  Who would want to go through that again?"

"What’s wrong with it is that you’ll never heal if you don’t face it.  And you don’t have to go through it alone this time."

"I suppose this is you volunteering?  The most callous, arrogant, self-absorbed pilot in the whole place?"

Sherlock frowns, then decides to take an incredible risk.  He leans over and places both hands on either side of John’s head.  He lowers his face so his mouth is just inches above John’s and looks him straight in the eyes.  ”I think you’ll find I can be quite the generous partner.”

In the next moment, he presses his mouth against John’s and kisses him hard.  While Sherlock is mostly motivated by pent-up, repressed feelings for his bunk mate that he’s been trying to ignore, he is also hoping the force of his kiss will prevent John from making any sort of objection.

A few impossibly long seconds later, John yields and reciprocates with an intense hunger, kissing Sherlock deeply and passionately.  John’s rough hands come up to cradle Sherlock’s face and a slight whimper escapes him.  The kiss tastes of blood and sweat and just -  _John_.  Sherlock breathes in deeply through his nose, trying to process every sensation simultaneously.  The feeling of their mouths moving together.  The taste of John’s lips.  The way he smells.  The way he sounds, breathing heavily.  It’s overwhelming and yet… almost not enough.

John finally breaks the kiss gently and rests his head against Sherlock’s forehead.  His eyes are closed as he speaks.

"How long have you been wanting to do that?"

"Six months less one day," Sherlock replies, matter-of-factly.

"Less one day?"

Sherlock nods gently.  ”When you actually came back to the room that second day, I knew.”

"How?" John asks.

"Because you were the only one to ever come back," Sherlock says, quietly.

They’re still for a moment; Sherlock perched over John as he lays on the mat.  Then:

"So you think we’re compatible as pilots?"

Sherlock sits back slightly and shakes his head.  ”No, as partners.”

John grins.  ”Then get off me already and let’s fight this out for real.”

"No," Sherlock replies.  He makes no attempt to move.

"It’s mandatory," John retorts, "like it or not, we have to do a compatibility test."

"Oh, I plan to take you on," says Sherlock, "just not with my fists."

He leans forward and kisses John again, and this time their rhythm is less hurried, more careful.  This time it’s John who breathes in deeply, and Sherlock can feel John’s chest expand beneath him.  It’s exquisite.  He wonders briefly if John spends as much time analysing every sensation as Sherlock does.  When they pull apart, John’s eyes are half-lidded and he is looking at Sherlock in a way that is totally unfamiliar.  Something else to catalogue.

"I'm going to take you apart," Sherlock warns.  "Completely dismantle you."

John grins and replies: “I’d like to see you try.”

Sherlock raises one eyebrow suggestively and feels John twitch beneath him.  He slowly slides down from where he’s straddling John’s hips to his knees, then his calves.  Sherlock’s hands work at the button and zipper on John’s trousers as he plants a kiss below John’s navel.  

"Prepare yourself for the assault," Sherlock says, "because there’s no retreating now."

John laughs softly before the sharp intake of breath cuts off all other retorts.


End file.
